(no subject)

[apocalypsos]

My parents and I went out to dinner tonight, which was a gift from my mom's boss because she organized the Christmas party. And I got to have anything I wanted, so I got New York strip steak. I laugh in the face of mad cow disease. Then I get squirted in the face with milk straight from the tap, but that's a different story.

Anyway, my dad made all kinds of ewwww-faces because my mom got stuffed mushrooms and I got my steak rare. Not "run it through a warm room" rare. Not "let it look at the oven in horror" rare. No, I like my steaks to be pulled quietly aside, shown a graphic picture of alien cattle mutilations, then brought to the table properly spooked. It ain't a steak dinner unless I leave the table looking like I've performed an autopsy. (Disgusted yet? Hmm. I must not be trying hard enough.)

Oh, and watching "Sound of Music" reminds me of the great times my brother and I used to have when we were kids playing with our gigantic marionette set and spontaneously breaking out in harmony. Ah, good times. *fake happy sighs*

While I'm flipping through the channels, I adore "The Pianist", have a weird fascination with "The Poseidon Adventure" (Superpriest!), and can honestly say that "Radio Days" is the only Woody Allen movie aside from "Annie Hall" I've ever liked at all.